


A Touch of Torture

by Artymys



Series: Sterek Drabbles [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Electrocution, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Hurt Stiles, Hurt Stiles Stilinski, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Magic, Magical Stiles Stilinski, One Shot, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pack Cuddles, Protective Derek, Protective Derek Hale, Puppy Piles, Spark, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Tags Are Hard, Torture, Whipping, X Frame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:07:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27342487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artymys/pseuds/Artymys
Summary: After an argument with the pack, Stiles leaves alone only to find himself in the torturous clutches of a one Gerard Argent.
Relationships: Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Sterek Drabbles [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1988038
Comments: 6
Kudos: 276





	A Touch of Torture

“You’re out of your mind.”

**_“I assure you, Mr. Stilinski, I’m not.”_ **

**_“Stiles, what do you call what you did with the mountain ash?”_ **

“No.” 

**_“Mr. Stilinski…”_ **

**_“Stiles!”_**   
  
“No!”

In a matter of seconds Stiles was free of the loft and in his jeep, the engine grinding the first three times he tried to start it. “Come on, please. Come on!” He practically growled as he twisted the keys for the fourth time and the engine started.  _ Just like magic. _ His traitorous mind echoed back at him, causing him to roll his eyes as he pulled out onto the road. He wasn’t sure where he was going, honestly, but he knew he didn’t want to go home. Dad had been working doubles lately so he usually wasn’t there on the nights that Stiles stayed there and the last thing Stiles really wanted was to go to his dad’s and sit in the quiet shell of a house. He hated being alone. 

Which was ironic, given that he had just marched his ass out of the loft, basically his second home, because he didn’t want to hear what the others had to say. 

_ It’s not like having magic would be such a bad thing, would it? Being able to defend yourself. Being able to defend your dad. The pack. They’re probably sick of getting your ass out of trouble all the time as it is, so this would at least lift the burden off of them. And your dad would be able to focus on work instead of constantly trying to make sure you weren’t getting into unnecessary trouble all the time.  _

“It’s not unnecessary…” Stiles muttered to himself as he continued driving along the back roads of the preserve. “Trouble always ends up finding us…” 

_ Having magic would make things so much easier. _

“No. Nope. No way. I’m human. Plain, old, boring human Stiles.” Stiles let out a huff of a sigh before he was shaking his head, his fingers absently tapping away against the steering wheel. “Okay, plain, hyperactive and annoying human.” He corrected himself, knowing full well that he couldn’t lie to himself about that at least. 

The sudden popping of his tires and the way the jeep jerked to the side cut off any further thoughts on that topic. 

Everything happened in the blink of an eye. The squeal of his tires, the sickening crunch as his jeep lurched and then rolled onto the side then kept going and flashes of light, sparks actually, pain and then…

Nothing. Nothing but the black abyss that swallowed him whole. For a brief second before the darkness consumed him, Stiles was almost certain he had heard someone speaking, more than one someone. But the words were fleeting, like the brush of a feather against over sensitized flesh. 

  
  


\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  


Awareness came back to Stiles in bits and pieces; the first bit that came back was, of course, the pain. His mind was sluggish, but it was processing fast enough to register that his left arm was screaming in pain, his head felt like his brain was three sizes too big and was trying to explode out of his skull, his ribs stabbed sharply with each jagged breath and there was some kind of pain that was radiating from his hip and out. 

Along with the pain came the feeling of cotton mouth and eyelids made of lead.

_ Shit what happened...  _

The next thing that started to trickle back were the last memories he had of being conscious. The sound of the tires popping, the way the steering wheel jerked before the jeep was rolling sideways into the ditch by the preserve, the sound of metal crunching and then the pain in the side of his neck.

_ Good move, genius. You go storming off into the night in a fit of anger and then roll your jeep. No wonder the whole pack is always worried about you getting hurt. They’re all worried you’re going to wind up dead in a ditch somewhere, just like this. If you would just accept that what they say could even possibly be true, then Deaton could help train you in how to use magic and you’d be able to keep yourself safe at the very least. But no, let’s keep being in denial while we lay here broken in a ditch. _

_ Wait, I’m not laying. _

Stiles could feel the way his arms were pinned above his head, something hard and cold wrapped around his wrists. If he shifted his weight just right, he could also feel some kind of mesh at his back. 

_ Oh fuck…. _

The sound of voices before he passed out suddenly came roaring back to him. He couldn’t remember specific words, just that he heard the muffled voices of at least two people before he blacked out. Pulling at his arms,  _ and doesn’t that fucking hurt _ , to try and test out his range of motion only resulted in his back being pressed more firmly into the mesh behind him. 

**_“Ahh, it seems you’re finally back with us. I was starting to think that my hunters had misjudged the dose for you and killed you. And we wouldn’t want that, now would we?”_ **

_ No, he’s dead. He’s been dead for years now… _ Stiles wanted so much to just believe that he was just imagining the voice he heard, but when he forced his eyes open, he was met with the face of Gerard Argent. Or, rather, what used to be Gerard Argent. His face was a mass of jagged scars and Stiles was honestly surprised that the man could see or breathe properly with the way his face was malformed. 

“What is it with Beacon Hills and zombies?” Stiles muttered before he even thought to keep his mouth shut. The bite of electricity that shot through his body, causing his muscles to spasm so drastically that Stiles was almost certain they were going to explode out of his body, made him instantly regret that he hadn’t held his tongue. When the electricity stopped Stiles had a feeling that the only things holding him upright were the shackles around his wrists and the chains he could feel around his chest keeping him back against the mesh. 

**_“I can assure you, young man, I’m not exactly dead. Though, I wouldn’t say I’m fully alive, either.”_** Gerard’s voice made a shiver run down Stiles’ spine, causing the muscles in his back to spasm a few more times. **_“But, now that I have you, I’ll be able to remedy that soon enough.”_**

_ That doesn’t sound ominous at ALL.  _ Stiles thought as he narrowed his eyes at the old man. “Look, you might not remember me, but I’m just the measly little human. You literally grabbed practically the only person in the know that isn’t actually supernatural. Unless you’re looking for someone who can look up the best plastic surgeon in the area to help fix that face…” 

Stiles' words cut off when Gerard growled and turned the electricity back on and sent his body back into pained spasms. He managed to hold himself back from noise for approximately .2 seconds, after that he couldn’t hold back the screams that tore from him. By the time Gerard cut the power, Stiles’ throat was completely raw. Honestly, it felt like Gerard’s face looked; scratched and mangled.

**_“That mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble if you let it keep running.”_ ** Gerard advised, his tone completely conversational; as if he hadn’t just made Stiles’ body light up like a christmas tree. With Stiles throat screaming in pain and his breath nothing more than pants to keep try and work through the pain, Stiles didn’t bother with a witty response. Not that it would have helped his situation at all. 

**_“Now, you see? It looks like the pack pet can learn new tricks after all.”_ ** It took just about everything Stiles had to not flinch away when Gerard shuffled his way to stand in front of him. He clenched his jaw and tried to focus on anything but the way the older man was looking at him; instead he focused on the way that he limped, the way that the bastard moved as if his whole body was in pain.  _ Well, at least I’m not alone in pain.  _ He thought almost ruefully. 

**_“You’re going to help me, Mr. Stilinski, whether you want to or not. Not to be cliche, but we can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way. It’s up to you.”_ **

“I already told you, unless it’s about research, I can’t help you!” Stiles' voice was raw and strained, his body screaming in pain but that didn’t stop him from tugging at his bindings. Where Gerard was the one that was holding him, Stiles knew that he would need to get used to pain. 

**_“That’s where you’re wrong. Your magic might be just the key to bringing me back to the man I was before that monster mauled me; to the man that I need to be again so that I can finish cleansing the world of every single one of those beasts.”_ ** **_  
_ ** **_  
_ ** “Riiiiiight, let me just pull a wand out of thin air and get right on that for you.” Stiles couldn’t help himself, he rolled his eyes even as he bit off his sarcastic comment. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell people, but I. Don’t. Have. Magic.” He ground out the last words through his teeth, trying to get the point across to Gerard. 

_ Good thinking, let’s tell him that you aren’t of any use to him, so that he can go right ahead and either kill you or use you to get to everyone. Seriously, Stiles, think this shit through! Derek always tells you that you need to think more before you open your mouth; you’d think you’d start listening to the man you practically live with at this point. _

**_“Wrong again, Mr. Stilinski. But since you continue to insist otherwise, it looks like we’ll be doing this the hard way.”_ **

Stiles tried to swallow around the sudden lump in his throat and curled his hands into fists to try and hide the shaking.  _ This is going to hurt… _

  
  


\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  


**_“I think that’s enough for the night. We’ll see if you still feel the same way tomorrow.”_ **

By the time Gerard decided he was done for the day, Stiles was barely holding onto consciousness. That wasn’t to say that he had been awake the whole time, at some point he knew that he had passed out because when he came too again some Dr Evil look-a-like was pulling an IV from his arm that Stiles had no recollection of being put in. 

When the old man left, however, he shut the door to Stiles’ little room completely and plunged Stiles into total darkness. Even under normal situations, Stiles had a hard enough time dealing with the dark. But here, still chained to the mesh and his arms still chained above his head, it was so much worse. He couldn’t move, his everything hurt so bad he wasn’t yet convinced he wasn’t dying, and there was nothing here to keep his mind occupied. 

Worst of all, the darkness was always when thoughts of the Nogitsune and the Wild Hunt came crawling back; of the nightmares that he had been suffering sporadically played like movies in the darkness. Horror movies that continued to play no matter if his eyes were closed or open, memories that continued to play over and over. 

That first night, Stiles’ screams echoed throughout the cell the whole night. 

  
  


\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  


Stiles only knew that days were going by because they seemed to be keeping him on some kind of fucked up schedule. That was the only reason that Stiles even knew that he’d been down there five days when Gerard came down that ‘morning’. 

_ Here we go: ‘Good morning, Mr. Stilinski. How are you feeling this morning?’, he says the same damn thing every morning.  _

**_“Good morning, Mr. Stilinski. How are you feeling this morning?”_ **

Instead of a verbal response, not that Stiles could even give one if he had wanted to, he just rolled his eyes at the man. Every morning, it was the same thing. And every morning after the first night in the cell, Stiles refrained from responding to the man for as long as possible. 

**_“Ah, I see you’re still being stubborn. Well, no matter, we have something fun planned for today.”_ **

_ That…...is not what he usually says.... _

With the snap of his fingers, Gerard summoned three of his henchmen; the three that Stiles had dubbed Thug One, Thug Two and Bob.

_ I mean, look at the man. He’s literally your generic ‘bad guy for hire’, but he’s so plain that he can’t possibly have any other name than Bob. It’s just not possible.  _

Being dragged between Thug One and Thug Two looked like a giant metal X, all sharp edges but it was covered in various chains connected to it by eye hooks. While the Thug twins carried that in, Bob came in with nothing but a pile of leather cord in his hand. At least, that’s what it looked like at first. While the Thug twins set up the X frame next to his mesh stand Bob moved over to the side of the room, unfurled the leather and suddenly whipped it out into a loud crack. 

_ Fuck. A whip. _

Stiles’ distress must have shown on his face, let’s face it after so long of just near constant pain it was hard to hide anything anymore, because Gerard’s face split into some hideous semblance of a smirk.

“Anyone ever tell you you look like the bastard offspring of Freddy Krueger and the Cheshire Cat when you smile like that?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, not that it mattered anymore. His voice was rough from screaming, his body was in pain, and he knew that he had even more pain coming for him today. 

The sigh that Gerard let out was a mixture of anger and so long suffering that it made him think of his Dad; he’d heard that noise from him so many times that it was basically ingrained into him. The hard punch to his gut, however, did NOT remind him of his Dad. 

**_“You’d do best to remember that I only need your magic. You don’t need to be in one piece for that. Move him.”_ **

For a second Stiles was completely confused about the last sentence Gerard spoke, but that confusion only lasted a matter of seconds because he suddenly found himself being hauled off the mesh frame. Tears that Stiles didn’t want to shed welled in his eyes when his arms fell down; he hadn’t had much feeling in his fingers after the first few hours in the cuffs and the sudden rush of blood to his limbs felt like he had actual needles rushing through his veins. 

That didn’t last long, however, because the Thug twins had him up and strapped up in the X frame, shredding his shirt from him which meant his bare chest was pressed against the cold metal. He was able to turn his head just a bit, enough to catch the movement of everyone from his peripheral, but the chains wrapped around his neck and the back of his head kept him from moving his head too much. 

**_“Think of this as….incentive, Mr. Stilinski. Every time I get an answer I don’t like, you’ll be getting another lash of the whip. That means it’s up to you, once again, how much pain you’re going to be getting.”_ **

There was a bit of movement behind him, he could almost feel the four different people moving behind him, getting into some kind of place he was sure. 

**_“We’ll start with an easy enough question. Are you trained enough to effectively use your magic?”_ **

The only response that Stiles gave was a groan and he let his eyes shut; he wasn’t sure how many times he could deny having magic. Because at this point, Stiles was almost positive that anything that had happened before Gerard had kidnapped him was just a fluke. 

Stiles registered the sound of the whip split seconds before his body was registering the pain, before his body was jerking hard against the binds that were holding him to the frame and a scream was torn from him once more. He could feel the way his skin had split from that single strike of the whip. Before he had even caught his first breath, Gerard was speaking again. 

**_“This is hardly a difficult question, Mr. Stilinski. Are you trained enough to effectively use your magic?”_ **

“I don’t have magic!” Stiles managed to rasp through his raw throat, only to cry out again as the whip landed once more. 

**_“We have all day, young man. Remember that.”_ **

  
  


\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  


After the first session with the whip, Stiles started to lose track of time; all he knew was that the longer it went on, the more he felt like he was going to end up with no skin left on his back. Every day was the same question, every day was the same answer and every day was the same thrashing. 

_ I should just tell him what he wants to hear. It’s not like he’s believed the truth so far. No, because if I tell him what he wants to hear, he’ll demand I use magic that I don’t know how to do and that’ll just get me killed sooner. I have to hold on, the pack has to be looking for me by now. _

At this point, Stiles was starting to savor the darkness; at least then it meant he wouldn’t have new pain inflicted upon him for a few hours. He could put up the visions and the nightmares, they couldn’t physically hurt him. He could handle the mental torture; it wasn’t as if he had any other options now, did he? 

Of all the things that were happening to him, what was starting to concern him more than anything was the fact that, while he didn’t want the pain anymore, he was just so tired. He hadn’t felt his arms in...well he wasn’t even sure and from what he could see of himself, various parts of his body had turned a scary mixture of black and purple and blue. 

_ I just want to sleep… _

The searing pain of the whip opening a gash across his back, he’d lost track of what number it was this time, caused a grunt of pain and tears he didn’t know he had left to streak down his cheek. 

**_“I’m getting tired of your stubbornness, Mr. Stilinski.”_ ** Gerard’s voice had taken on an edge of anger, one could even say it was getting close to rage. The questions had stopped some time ago and at this point Gerard was just having Bobbo whip him until he did  _ something  _ with this mysterious magic he was supposed to have. 

_ I’m so tired....just need to sleep. But I can’t, I have to stay alert... _

Stiles’ eyes closed in a long blink, they were so sore and heavy, but the crack of the whip caused his eyes to jerk open again in another whimper. 

“Told you…don’t have magic.” He muttered, his words rough and slurred as his body started trying to shut down on him, his limbs felt like lead, his head heavy and everything was starting to get blurry; well, everything he could see that is. The Thug twins were just amorphous blobs of flesh and Bob and Gerard were just vague hints of color in his peripheral vision. 

**_“You just need the proper incentive. Perhaps we’ll bring your father in here and see what kind of punishment you let him sustain before you finally admit the truth. Or maybe I’ll start bringing in each member of that monstrous pack you have, I’ve seen the way you and that Hale look at each other. Maybe if I take his head off right in front of you, you’ll see that I’m serious.”_ ** **_  
_ ** **_  
_ ** Something in Stiles snapped at Gerard’s words; as tired as he was the thought that his family or friends, that Derek, would have to go through this torture, or even die, caused his own rage to bubble inside of him. He could feel the way it started to overtake him, the warmth of the anger, like a boiling lake of tar that was taking over everything within him; filling him up to the point that he was convinced he would explode. 

“NO!” The scream that tore from Stiles was rough, deep and so loud that the walls vibrated. But those vibrations went unnoticed when a wave of hot white light exploded in the center of the room, with Stiles being the epicenter. The force of this explosion threw all four of the other men in the room so hard against the walls that Stiles could hear their bones snap like toothpicks. The white hot light continued to pulse from within Stiles until every other sound within the room died, along with all four of his captors, leaving nothing more but dust shadows pressed into the walls around him. 

When the light finally died down, Stiles’ body was left slumped on the ground, his bindings melted in the heat of the light, as he finally fell unconscious. 

  
  


\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  


_ “Stiles!” _

_ “Come on, son, open your eyes!”  _

_ “Wake up, Stiles.” _

The voices that called to Stiles sounded so far away, almost as if they were echoing through leagues and leagues of water before they finally reached him. They were too far away, he couldn’t reach them and the dark was so inviting for once; luring him back into unconsciousness. 

_ “Go home, Scott.”  _

_ “We aren’t leaving, Derek. The whole pack is in the waiting room.”  _ _   
_ _ “Scott, take them home. Noah or I will call if he wakes up or anything changes. But the whole pack can’t stay here.”  _ _   
_ _ “Derek…”  _ _   
_ _ “Scott, you heard him. The staff won’t let more than the two of us stay with him anyway, you know that. Go on, take everyone home.”  _

_ “Yes, sir.”  _

As Stiles’ drifted closer to consciousness, the snippets of conversation that he caught sounded closer than before. He wanted to open his eyes, he wanted to reach for them; he could make out his dad’s voice, and Derek’s and Scott’s. He needed to make sure they were alright; he remembered Gerard’s threat to hurt them, to kill them. His mind screamed into the voice as he slipped back into the darkness.

_ “You have to stop beating yourself up, kid.”  _ _   
_ _ “I let him walk out of the loft alone, Noah. I let him drive off alone. And then we didn’t even notice he was missing until the next night.”  _ _   
_ _ “That’s not on you, we all should have noticed sooner that he was missing. But you found him. You’re the one that brought him back to us.”  _

_ “I failed him…” _

“No’ ‘ur faul’.” Stiles’ words were still sluggish and opening his eyes was a huge challenge, but he did it. He couldn’t let the others think that this was their fault. “Not your fault.” Stiles managed the words completely once he had cleared his throat out; it still felt raw and scratched but he had to get those words out. 

_ “Stiles!”  _ _   
_ _ “Hey, kiddo. About time you rejoined the land of the living.”  _ _   
_ _   
_ Stiles let out a faint snort but his face wrinkled when that hurt. He managed a faint smile when Derek grabbed a cup with a straw and pressed it to his lips.  _ “Slow sip.”  _ Stiles couldn’t help but smile wider at Derek’s command, the hard words softened by the relieved look in his eyes as he helped Stiles take a sip of the water. The cold liquid doing wonders at soothing some of the raw feeling in his throat. 

“What happened?” Stiles tried, but he couldn’t stop his curiosity; he had to know how he got out of there and what that light was.  _ Magic. Just admit it, you used magic.  _ Stiles swallowed again before he looked between Derek and his dad. “How did you get me out?”    
  
Derek and Noah’s brows furrowed as they glanced at each other before they were looking back at him.  _ “Kiddo, what do you remember?”  _ Stiles licked his lips nervously at his father’s words but eventually took a breath before speaking again. “I remembered I was chained up, I was….there was pain. And then Gerard threatened you both…” Stiles flinched a fraction when Derek’s growl at Gerard’s name hit his ears. “He threatened you both, and the pack. I got so angry, I was scared and then….then there was just this blinding light. Next thing I know I’m falling and then….nothing until now.” 

Noah squeezed Stiles hand as if he still needed the reassurance that Stiles was there with him. The only thing Stiles could do to reassure his dad was squeeze it back before Derek started talking. “When we got there, there was nothing but ash in the room. Gerard had been keeping you in the basement of some rundown warehouse and it took us….we’ve been looking for you for over two weeks….” Derek’s hand moved slowly before he was settling it gently on Stiles’ chest. “When we found you….when I saw you, you weren’t moving. At all. You were covered in ash and blood and I thought I’d lost you…”    
  
Lifting his other hand, Stiles pressed Derek’s further against his chest, so that Derek could feel his heart beating; listening to the monitor wouldn’t have been enough for Stiles, so he was sure it wasn’t enough for Derek either. “I’m here.” Stiles' voice was soft as he thread his fingers with Derek’s. “You aren’t getting rid of me that easily.” 

_ “When Deaton went to inspect the space, he said that your magic had finally snapped it’s leash and lashed out to protect you.”  _ Derek held up his other hand as if he was trying to stop any kind of argument that Stiles might offer before he finished.  _ “I know you said you didn’t have magic but what happened down there...Deaton said that the magic you released burned everything and everyone but you in that room to ashes. The result of built up and untrained magic.”  _

Stiles squeezed Derek’s fingers once he was done talking and let out a sigh. “I didn’t want to believe I was anything but just human. It’s hard to believe, but….I guess I can’t deny it anymore. Because anything else that could have caused that wouldn’t have left me alive.” 

Noah let out a sigh of his own before patting Stiles’ hand.  _ “Alright, enough of that for right now. I’m going to go get Melissa and the doc. They’ll want to know you’re awake.”  _ Stiles offered his dad a small smile as the man was leaving the room; looking back at Derek when the door closed behind his dad. “I’m sorry I stormed out like that.”  _ “Hey, no. You don’t have to apologize. We shouldn’t have tried pushing you to accept it like that.”  _ Stiles shook his head a bit. “It doesn’t matter, now.”  _ “It does matter. We’re a pack….hell, we’re mates, Stiles. I shouldn’t have let you go off alone like that.” _ Stiles could see the way that Derek’s jaw clenched, he knew that Derek was angry, likely angry at himself, but Stiles’ couldn’t let that stant. “Der, stop.” He reached up and slid his hand over the back of Derek’s neck, using that grip to gently tug Derek to him so that he could press their foreheads together. 

“Don’t, Derek. Don’t blame yourself or get angry with yourself. Or the pack, for that matter. I’m an adult, I wanted to be alone. This isn’t on you or anyone but myself.” 

Before Derek could respond the door to Stiles’ hospital room opened up again and his father came in quickly followed by Melissa. 

_ “Stiles! You scared the crap out of us!”  _ Melissa scolded him as she came to stand on the other side of his bed. “Sorry.” Stiles muttered sheepishly, earning him a drawn out sigh from the woman before she was looking at Derek and Noah.  _ “Alright, you two. Out, before the doctor comes in. We’re going to have to check him over and a little privacy would be appreciated.”  _

Both men let out their own grumbles before capitulating.  _ “Fine, but we’re waiting just outside.” _ Noah gave Stiles’ hand another squeeze before leaving the room. Derek leaned down and gave Stiles a gentle kiss, as if he was afraid he would hurt him.  _ “You need me, you call me. I’ll be right out those doors.”  _ He spoke softly, their foreheads pressed together once more. “I know, you’ll always be there when I need you.” Derek gave him one more achingly gentle kiss before he was leaving the room. 

_ “You worried us all.”  _ Melissa chided, barely hiding the tears welling in her eyes. “I know, I’m sorry.” Stiles reached his hand out to squeeze hers gently, tugging her down into a hug only to have her pull back once the doctor walked in the room. 

_ “Alright, Mr Stilinski, let’s see how you’re doing.”  _

  
  


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Stiles was kept in the hospital for just over a week as his body healed enough for him to be released; he’d need to continue with physical therapy even after he left, but he couldn’t stomach staying in the hospital any longer than necessary. He was also convinced that Derek was going to go out of his mind if he wasn’t able to bring Stiles home where he could look after him himself; they’d been talking about it for three days before Stiles finally agreed to move in with Derek completely, it was well past time and this way Stiles’ dad wouldn’t have to worry about him while he was out at work. And while Stiles would usually argue that he would be able to take care of himself, he didn’t want to be alone again for a very long time. 

His back was an absolute mess of various levels of healing whip wounds and the rest of his body was covered in bruises in a variety of colors as well. It meant he’d have to take it easy until his body had finished healing, but Stiles wanted to be home. 

Derek was able to talk Noah into letting him drive Stiles home from the hospital, so that was how Stiles found himself settled into the front of the Camaro as Derek drove them to the loft; his dad’s cruiser following close behind. When Derek pulled into the driveway and Stiles caught sight of the multitude of pack vehicles that filled the drive, he was actually glad for his dad. He knew that, between Derek and his dad, Stiles would at least have a buffer between himself and the over eager pack members that were suddenly all spilling out of the front door. 

_ “Stiles!” _

_ “Batman!” _

_ “You’re home!” _

Stiles laughed as he watched his dad basically herd the excited pack mates, the puppies that they were, away from the car while Derek came around and got him out of the car. Stiles was still having a hard time walking, so Derek just scooped Stiles up into a bridal carry and started walking towards the door. “You know, they’re just going to follow us, you might as well just let them see for themselves that I’m okay. Just like you had to see for yourself.” Even as he spoke, Stiles' fingers scratched idly at the back of Derek’s neck, he could feel the tension there and he was hoping that the touch would help ease that tension there. 

_ “I could just send them home.”  _ Stiles smiled again at Derek’s words, shaking his head just a bit. “You know as well as I do that they’ll either camp outside the door or they’ll be back at the crack of dawn. And I don’t know about you, but I’m hoping to get as much sleep as possible in our bed.” 

Derek growled, Stiles could feel the vibrations of it deep in Derek’s chest, but he otherwise didn’t argue. Instead he moved to the overstuffed chair that came with the living room set Stiles had made him buy and got Stiles settled into the chair.  _ “I don’t like this.”  _ Derek’s brow furrowed as he spoke. “Don’t pout. I know, but this’ll be better in the long run. It’ll be okay.” Stiles reassured him as he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Derek’s lips; smiling when he heard his dad call out a heads up before everyone was racing into the living room with them. 

_ “Easy!”  _ Derek growled as they came flying in, his eyes flashing as he rose and stood protectively next to Stiles. Stiles squeezed Derek’s hand in a gentle reassurance in the moment that Derek’s tone had afforded them; the rest of the pack showing they heard as they all slowed down and came in to each give Stiles a hug, some of them lingering longer as their wolves soaked up the touch of their lost packmate. 

“You all literally saw me yesterday at the hospital. Nothing has changed yet.” Stiles tried to reassure each of them as they all piled around as close to him as they could get without climbing into the chair with him. 

_ “We were worried about you, Batman. You can’t just disappear on us like that.”  _ Erica, who was draped over one of the arms of the chair so that his shoulder touched her hip, pouted down at him. Stiles rolled his eyes and gently pressed against her with his shoulder. “I’ll be sure to tell anyone that tries to kidnap me in the future that they can’t because you’ll worry, Catwoman.” 

_ Really?! They’re all worried about you and here you are snarking? Yes, sarcasm is your defense mechanism, but you don’t need it right now! _

Stiles cringed inwardly at his own internal scolding before his smile softened into a real one. “I’m sorry I worried you all. Going out alone like that wasn’t my smartest idea. I’ll be more careful going forward. I’m hoping Deaton will be willing to help me learn how to control my magic, something to help protect us all.” Just those simple words seemed to relieve some of the tension that was filling the room. If simply promising to be more careful did that, he really needed to try harder. 

“Now, enough of these sad faces. Someone put in a movie for a puppy pile and some food. I can finally eat solids again, I want pizza and chinese and curly fries.” Stiles tipped his head back far enough that he could pout his bottom lip out at Derek, earning a groaning eye roll from the brooding wolf but he was pulling out his phone to place the order without comment. 

  
  


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By the time the food arrived, and Stiles’ dad had made sure that Stiles was good before he was called into work, the pack had pulled out the spare mattress and gotten it situated on the floor with so many pillows and blankets that Stiles was pretty sure someone had bought out a Bed, Bath and Beyond while he was in the hospital.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit much?” Stiles asked Derek when he carefully lifted Stiles out of the chair and settled him on the mattress, with Derek directly behind him to act as a cushion, with pillows piled up on either side of them.  _ “Nope.”  _ Derek brushed his cheek against the top of Stiles' head, his arms wrapped loosely around Stiles’ waist, as the pack all piled onto the mattress with them, Isaac bringing Derek and Stiles each a plate piled full of food. 

_ “Accept it, dude, we were all worried about you. That means we’re all going to do everything we can to make sure you’re taken care of. Especially while you’re healing.”  _ Scott said as he stretched out at the bottom of the mattress, moving just enough that he could lift Stiles legs carefully and settled them on his stomach. His answer caused Stiles to sigh but he knew it was pointless to try and argue at this moment in time. No matter what he said, the pack wasn’t going to ease back any time soon, and if him letting them spoil him a little bit helped them relax, then he’d tolerate it for a little while. 

“Just watch the movie, you dork.” Stiles said softly, slowly eating himself as the movie started.

  
  


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The nightmares started a few days after Stiles got home, he woke up screaming in the middle of the night and would have thrown himself out of bed if his body hadn’t been tangled up in the blankets and Derek hadn’t had him. It took Stiles several long moments, and the lamp being turned on, before he was finally able to get his bearings, finally able to see that he was at home, that he wasn’t trapped in the darkness. 

_ “Deep breaths, come on.”  _

The first deep breath was shaky, more a quick pant than a full breath, but the second one was deeper. Derek had Stiles’ hand pressed to his chest so that he could feel Derek’s breaths in the hopes that it would help him mimic his breathing. 

“M’fine.” Stiles muttered after several breaths, his hand still pressed against Derek’s chest. 

_ “It’s okay to not be fine, Stiles. The shit you went through….you don’t have to be okay.” _

Stiles’ breath caught in his chest for a brief second at Derek’s words before he was moving to curl up against Derek’s chest more completely. “I want to be fine, though. I want….I want to be okay. I don’t want to be terrified of the dark or to have an anxiety attack at the very idea of being left alone at all.”

The soothing brush of Derek’s hands along Stiles' back helped to sooth away the tremors that were causing Stiles to shiver in his arms.  _ “You’ll get there. I’ll be here every step of the way, right beside you. You aren’t alone anymore.”  _ Derek’s fingers gently gripped Stiles’ chin so that he could tip his head up and get him to look at him.  _ “I promise you. It’s just one step at a time.”  _

Stiles licked his lips and nodded slowly. “Right, one foot in front of the other.” Taking in a large breath, Stiles shifted their positions enough so that he could press their foreheads together once more. “Thank you.” He whispered, his eyes closing so that he could focus on all the points of contact. 

_ “You never have to thank me, Stiles. You’re my mate and I’ll do anything I can to help you achieve whatever you set your mind to.”  _

“I love you, Derek.”    
_ “I love you too, Stiles.” _

The road ahead of them would be long, Stiles knew it would, but so long as he had Derek, the pack and his family with him, he could believe that he’d be alright somewhere down that road. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I had a hard time with the ending, for some reason. This was supposed to be a simple one-shot and somehow it ended up as a long one. 
> 
> Please feel free to let me know what you think!


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